


remedies

by butterballchoco



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Ballet, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tooru Don't Grow Up Together, Kuroo Tetsurou is a Little Shit, Kuroo Tetsurou-centric, M/M, Medical, Oikawa Tooru is Bad at Feelings, Oikawa Tooru-centric, Rare Pairings, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, They're Both Flirts, kuroo and daichi and iwaizumi are roommates, may get angsty at some point but that will be later, oikawa and kageyama are nice to each other, oikawa and ushijima are nice to each other, yamaguchi is my favorite character in this it might be obvious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterballchoco/pseuds/butterballchoco
Summary: Oikawa graces the world as a professional ballet dancer, and Kuroo simply knows him as the urgent care regular who hurts himself too much.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

At only 17 years old, Oikawa graduated high school and moved onto the big leagues. The painful leagues. The outright demanding, grueling leagues that left only a few ballerinos in its wake. Swapping Japanese university for American dance academy, Oikawa up and left with a vengeance.

Male ballet dancers rarely got the spotlight, that much was obvious. But, with determination to steal it, Oikawa shot for New York's Ballet Academy East ( _BAE_ ).

Luckily, _BAE_ – in all its glory– was, well, unconventional, in comparison to its predecessors. So, not only did Oikawa find himself in a pre-professional dance program before he was even a legal adult in the new country, he also found himself in an all-male, newly-formed ballet group.

But that was almost four years ago, and Oikawa was now 21. He had ditched the pre-professional program and snuck his way into the professional, adult one.

With the four years came new faces, until finally in the fall of his fourth year at _BAE_ , the all-male ballet group was fully fledged and recognized.

Oikawa Tooru, who stood proudly among the group of eight as their captain, was now a well-known professional ballerino.

The rest of the group included a mix of professional and pre-professional dancers, but what was most jarring was that now they were all Japanese or Japanese-American.

When Oikawa had first joined, he was thrown into the mix with people from all over, but at least it allowed him to brush up on his English easily.

Now it came time to meet his new group– the one he would be sticking with for a while to come. Oikawa was excited to work alongside a group full of men with the same aspirations as him. A group of men who had multiple members that left Japan in the search for more.

He had run into fellow Japanese ballerinos at his performances, and at the few competitions _BAE_ couldn't stop the past groups from joining, but he had yet to work alongside one. At least, one other than the renowned Bokuto Koutarou, who had joined _BAE_ at the same time he did.

Actually, there was another Japanese-American ballerino that he had the absolute pleasure of meeting several times. Miya Atsumu. But there was nothing wrong with the guy, and Oikawa might've even said he liked him if he wasn't constantly jeering at him during competitions.

Either way, he was excited to meet his new group of Japanese ballerinos, which was happening tonight. _BAE_ reserved one of the smaller studios for them and left a buffet of treats for them to bond over.

It might not have been a _black tie_ event, but Oikawa still dressed dapper. In fact, he was in the process of fastening a blue tie around his neck when Bokuto snuck up behind him.

Without a word, Bokuto rested his chin on Oikawa's shoulder, and Oikawa stared at his reflection through the mirror before sighing, "dressed?"

"Yup. Can you tie my tie?"

Oikawa nodded silently, finishing up with his own tie before turning to Bokuto with a smile. He ran the silk fabric between his fingers before throwing it over Bokuto's head.

The two remained silent as Oikawa tightened the gold accented tie all the way up to the top of his button down, patting Bokuto's chest twice when done.

Bokuto thanked him cheerfully, and then they were on their way. On their way simply meant that they were leaving the Easton apartment building and walking around the corner to BAE's entrance, but nevertheless, they were on their way.

When they arrived, they were immediately ushered to studio 4, where apparently two guests had already arrived prior.

Oikawa cracked open the door, peeking inside in the hopes to get a good look at the two members before approaching them.

One of them was short and maintained cropped, ash blonde hair. He stood with his arms crossed, facing himself in the huge mirror that took up the wall.

The other stood rigidly on the opposite side of the room, gazing out the window as if to avoid interacting with the shorter dancer.

Oikawa shook his head silently as he watched them for a moment longer, interrupted only by Bokuto's tapping at his elbow.

"Why are we hiding?"

"We're not hiding!" Oikawa was quick to recover, "we're just doing some observing before entering. _Now_ we're entering."

Oikawa pushed the door open, letting it swing out in front of him as he stood still for a moment longer. He eventually placed a smile on his face and took long, elegant steps into the room. He felt Bokuto keep up behind him, practically oozing excitement.

"Hi, guys!"

The two men turned to him immediately, and Oikawa smiled as they both walked toward him eagerly.

The shorter man introduced himself as Morisuke, Yaku Morisuke. And the taller one– the tallest in the room, in fact– was Ushijima Wakatoshi.

They greeted Oikawa with bows, and he bowed back almost giddily. He wasn't much fond of handshakes, but after four years in the US he had adapted. He didn't realize someone could miss _bowing_ , until now.

After getting a closer look and hearing their names, Oikawa recognized them. They were just as renowned as he was, if not more. Well, definitely more.

Ushijima Wakatoshi had stayed in Japan and received his professional ballet training there. And seeing that he was the only male from their age group that held Japan's ballerino title, Oikawa nearly shivered in his shoes. If he hadn't left Japan, would he have made it?

Yaku Morisuke was known around the globe. He trained in Russia before he had even graduated middle school, instead home schooling. With all of his training and expertise (all of which was done under the number 2 ballet academy in the world), he was expected to make it big, especially in partner dance. If it wasn't for his height, he would be in the co-ed group. Actually, if it wasn't for his height, he would be on a grand stage, probably earning the title of Primo Ballerino by now.

As he stood across from Oikawa, it was apparent that he had been training from the day he was born. Oikawa almost widened his eyes in awe, and he couldn't help but think it extremely unfair that Yaku wasn't taller.

"Oikawa Tooru," Ushijima spoke without warning. "I have heard many great things of your talent. I am looking forward to dancing with you."

"Thank you. You as well."

Ushijima simply nodded at the compliment, and Oikawa's smile faltered for just a moment before he quickly turned his attention back to Yaku.

"And you, Yaku-san. I'm honored to work with you."

"We'll be living together; it's alright to drop the formalities," Yaku grinned back, and Oikawa could see him bounce on the balls of his feet subtly.

Bokuto, who had miraculously stayed quiet throughout the ordeal of introductions, finally stepped up to stand directly beside Oikawa. He greeted the two newest dancers with waves and overenthusiastic bows, and Oikawa stood tall as he listened to the three dancers compliment each other.

It didn't take long for the rest of the group to arrive, and Oikawa's smiles and compliments remained throughout the evening.

There were two newer ballerinos that had just joined the pre-professional branch: Hinata Shoyo and Kageyama Tobio. Being 19 and 18 respectively, they each still had two years to go before they joined the professional program, but that didn't make them any less intimidating.

Oikawa had also heard of them, although not through the dance tabloids like he did the others. Hinata and Kageyama were both predicted to be Japan's next ballerinos, which was amazing because, (once again), it was considered lucky if there was even one famous, Japanese, male ballet dancer for each age group. Oikawa had first heard of them from his sister, who closely followed the ballet world in Japan because she still lived there.

Next to be introduced was Nishinoya Yuu, who had completed half of his pre-professional training in Italy, and the second half in Bulgaria. Now that he was only a month from 20, his professional career was nearly on its way, and he settled down in New York for it. He was already known in the ballet community, both for talent and spontaneity. It was hard to keep him in one place, and Oikawa wondered how _BAE_ was able to lock him down. Especially when he was sure he must have had offers from various countries.

The last to show– true to what Oikawa expected of him– was Miya Atsumu. Oikawa's jaw nearly fell slack open as his eyes landed on him, but Atsumu only smirked back at him. While it was a surprise for Oikawa, Atsumu knew what he was getting himself into, because he was the one who had applied to _BAE_.

Oikawa couldn't figure out why he would even do that, because Atsumu had already done his pre-professional training in New York. He was an alumni of the School of American Ballet, and Oikawa didn't see any reason for him to switch in the middle of his career.

But then again, some people just needed change. Like Nishinoya, switching countries halfway through his pre-professional program (not once, but twice). Oikawa liked to think that he understood it– he had ditched Japan for New York, after all– but he had grown too attached to _BAE_ and all it had to offer, so he couldn't imagine leaving. Atsumu had grown up in New York, so maybe that had something to do with his random switch, who knows.

Miya Atsumu. He was still one year younger than Oikawa, but, much like Yaku, he had opted for home schooling to get ahead. His pre-professional training was done at the School of American Ballet, and now he would continue professionally at _BAE_ , within the group of eight ballerinos.

"Tooru," came Atsumu's easy greeting.

"Tsumu."

Oikawa glanced around the group just in time to catch a few shocked stares, quickly waving them off and giving Atsumu a pat to the shoulder.

From the corner of the group, Oikawa tuned into the muffled whispering of Hinata and Kageyama explaining to each other that Americans go by given name. Oikawa only shook his head with laughter, reliving the absolute confusion he had felt when he came to New York around the same age as them. He couldn't wait to get to know them better; he had a good feeling about them.

"Yes," Oikawa began to speak to the group as a whole. He looked on in amazement as they tuned into his words almost urgently. "To clear up any confusion from those fresh out of Japan, first names are used regularly here. So, feel free to call me Tooru. Please accept me as your captain, and I hope we work well together."

Oikawa couldn't help the bow that came naturally after his speech, but from the looks of it, it was appreciated by them all. He received five bows in return. Atsumu and Bokuto were the two who didn't bow back, but Oikawa simply blamed it on their American upbringings.

After only an hour of snacking and small talk, the group grew antsy as they expected to see their new living space. Oikawa had been living there for the past four years of his life, so he had forgotten that there was even something to be excited about. But, as soon as he remembered, he offered for the group to take a quick visit. They would be moving in throughout the week anyway.

The tour didn't take very long, and Oikawa directed everyone's attention to the room he shared with Bokuto to give them a glimpse of how their rooms would appear after moving in.

The shared apartment held four bedrooms and two and a half bathrooms, which meant that four people would share one bathroom. Oikawa had grown used to this environment over the years, so he allowed himself to laugh at the looks of horror that crossed a few of the other's faces. Got to love New York City.

With the roommates decided, the group broke away and went their separate ways for the night. Bokuto would remain Oikawa's roommate, while Atsumu and Hinata were paired together in the room opposite their shared bathroom. Ushijima and Kageyama bonded, albeit surprisingly, so they were paired together. Nishinoya and Yaku claimed the last room, and they considered themselves ready to share their bathroom with Ushijima and Kageyama when the time came.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ballet group gets to know each other more.

Moving in proved harder than Oikawa thought it would be. At least for his six new roommates.

Not only did it include many elevator rides to and from their apartment, but it included burglary and injury as well. Ushijima had mistakenly left a suitcase unattended on the side of the street, and by the time he returned to it (two minutes later), it was long gone. Hinata had attempted to carry three suitcases up the stairs, only to come tumbling down in a heap as the group watched.

Not that Oikawa was there for any of it, or Bokuto. They offered help with bringing the luggage to their floor, but all of the men had stubbornly refused.

So, as the newly formed group of eight lounged around the living room, they were laughing at the struggles that they had to conquer to get there.

"I left my suitcase for only two minutes," Ushijima explained in a mix of sadness and confusion, but he nodded along humorously as the group laughed at him. "New York is vicious."

Oikawa, who was perched on the arm rest of the couch, was definitely laughing the hardest of the bunch. They only had themselves to blame. He offered his help.

"Mori, where are your things?"

Yaku's attention turned to Oikawa before he let out an airy laugh. "They will be brought up to me in less than an hour." He glanced at his phone. "I hired a delivery service."

The group responded with various groans or chuckles, until finally Nishinoya hopped up from his spot lying on the floor to skip toward his new bedroom.

One by one, each of them stood and made their ways to their rooms, leaving Oikawa and Bokuto to themselves on the couch. Oikawa lifted a leg to push at Bokuto's thigh with his foot, urging him to scoot over so Oikawa could get off of the arm rest.

Bokuto got the message and scooted, and Oikawa threw himself across the couch. He allowed his head to rest on Bokuto's lap, and Bokuto's fingers reached out to run through his hair absentmindedly.

"Have you thought of the pairings?" Bokuto asked randomly.

"Hmm, a little bit. I'm scared to tell Tobio that he won't be a lifter."

Bokuto laughed at this. "Remember when we were partners?"

"That was horrendous, but I take full credit for how buff you are now because of it."

Bokuto opened his mouth to continue, but an alarming yell sounded from another area of the apartment and effectively closed his mouth.

Oikawa's head shot up from Bokuto's lap, and they both jumped from the couch to find the source of the yell. When they traced it back to Yaku and Nishinoya's shared bedroom, they found the two men standing with grimaced faces and hands on hips.

Kageyama– naked– stood in front of them vulnerably, his arms crossed over himself as he teetered on the boundary between the bedroom and the shared bathroom.

"Wha–" Oikawa's words cut off automatically as his eyes moved down Kageyama and eventually landed on his feet. His heels were standing in a puddle. In fact, the entire bathroom floor was a puddle.

He now noticed that Yaku and Nishinoya's bedroom floor was halfway soaked.

"Tobio," Oikawa began warily. He held out his arms as he took slow steps toward him. Honestly, he didn't know what he was doing. "How did this happen?"

The hurried shuffling of feet joined them in the soaked bedroom, and Oikawa spared a glance over his shoulder to find that Atsumu and Hinata's nosiness caused them to spectate as well.

"I was rinsing myself before entering the bath." Kageyama stared right into Oikawa's eyes as he spoke, and Oikawa stared back in horror. He couldn't tell if Kageyama was too horrified to look at anyone else or what, but he coughed uncomfortably before responding.

"Ah, Tobio, things are done differently here."

"Is the drain clogged?"

Oikawa would have laughed if he weren't suffering from the secondhand embarrassment he expected Kageyama felt. But Kageyama simply stood in all his naked glory, in front of his new ballet group members. Oikawa eventually gave up, discarding his shirt and ordering Kageyama to put it on before he tore off his socks and stepped into the bathroom.

Back in the bedroom, he heard outrageous laughter from Atsumu and Hinata, and Yaku began yelling about how the drain is located  _ in  _ the bathtub.

Nishinoya even cheered out what seemed like congratulations, and Oikawa could hear him slap Kageyama's back– at least he hoped it was his back– as he laughed out, "you flooded the apartment the very first night!"

Right as Oikawa devised a plan to salvage the apartment floor, Ushijima opened the second bathroom door. Oikawa watched almost painfully as more water rushed from the bathroom to Kageyama and Ushijima's shared bedroom.

"Excuse me." Ushijima bowed slightly as if he saw  _ nothing  _ wrong with the current state of the bathroom. "Is this normal in New York as well?"

"No, of course not! From now on, no more changing the angle of the showerhead!"

Their move-in ended up being for nothing, and it was postponed for over a week so that Easton's repairmen could fix the flooring.

• • •

At least Oikawa could say that the group's first class went much better than their move-in. No one was stolen from, no one was injured, no one flooded the bathroom.

He ultimately paired himself with Hinata– what could he say, he felt emotional attachment to anyone doing their pre-professional training at  _ BAE  _ like he had.

Bokuto partnered with Nishinoya. Atsumu was paired with Yaku. Then, Ushijima would be the lifter in his pair with Kageyama.

Surprisingly, Kageyama accepted his new position with no argument against it, and it almost made Oikawa feel ashamed for the tantrum he had thrown three years ago when he was switched from lifter to  _ liftee _ , or lifted?

Kageyama may not have expressed any discomfort to Oikawa, but Hinata began teasing him immediately, and Kageyama's calm composure switched to snappy remarks in no time.

As expected, Oikawa and Hinata worked well together from the get go. Despite being short, Hinata was overflowing with muscle mass and determination. Oikawa would catch him and lift him almost effortlessly– his hands rested against such sturdy muscles it was almost like lifting a desk chair. Hinata's core strength impressed him immensely.

He imagined Atsumu was having the same experience, especially with Yaku as his partner. He watched closely as they nailed a practice lift on their first try, and he patted Atsumu's back in celebration before realizing what he was doing.

Oikawa dropped his smile and decided to attribute the perfect lift to Yaku's Russian ballet training,  _ not  _ Atsumu.

Bokuto was a great lifter, and Oikawa had no doubts that he would warm up to Nishinoya with zero effort. By the time Oikawa stopped by to check on their lifts, they had already begun venturing away from what they said were the  _ plain  _ and  _ boring  _ old lifts Oikawa assigned them. Nishinoya nearly balanced on only one of Bokuto's hands, and Oikawa had to scold them by saying they were doing ballet and not cheerleading.

Ushijima and Kageyama were a bit messier of a combination, but that didn't make them any less talented. Oikawa's eyes were narrowed into slits as he observed them, but he couldn't find any flaw except for maybe being too stiff. It was the first time they were all dancing together, so Oikawa pinned the blame on that and moved on.

"I think the pairings are good for now, but let me know if there's any reason to change them." Oikawa faced the group with his hands on his hips, and his eyes caught the elated nodding coming from Hinata in response. "We've got to trust our partners wholeheartedly, so get ready for some trust exercises."

He was met with groans and nods, but the group ended up in a circle anyway. They sat on the studio floor, their legs all out in the splits as they bent forward with their elbows to the floor in front of them. One by one, they each shared two truths and one lie.

"I opted for homeschooling for the second half of high school and started my pre-professional training in Brazil," Hinata began confidently. "I skydived off the roof of a skyscraper, and I weigh 82 kilograms."

Oikawa slammed his palm to the floor as a makeshift buzzer, and Hinata laughed before signaling for him to answer.

"There's no way you weigh 82 kilos!"

Nishinoya's palm was the next to slap the floor, and Hinata looked to him before he could respond to Oikawa's guess.

"Did you really skydive off a building?" Nishinoya's eyes were wide, and the group let out a chorus of  _ ooh _ 's before looking to Hinata expectantly.

"Yes! I did. And you're right, Tooru. I only weigh like 66."

Oikawa gave a little shoulder wiggle in celebration, laughing along as the group laughed with him. "I'm so good at this. Try to keep up, everyone."

Atsumu scoffed lightly before rubbing his hands together in thought. It was his turn, and Oikawa suspected that he would try to throw him off of his winning streak.

"Alright, so, I was actually born in Japan. My pubes are bleached blonde too. And," he dragged out the and as he looked to the ceiling in thought, completely unaware of the mixed responses to his second statement. "And, I can make a sexy ass crème brûlée."

"Those are all over the place! How are we supposed to guess!" Yaku was quick to yell, and the group murmured quietly to themselves while Oikawa tapped his fingers to his chin.

He narrowed his eyes at Atsumu almost dangerously, but Atsumu only grinned back at him.

"Were you not born in New York?"

Atsumu wagged a finger at Oikawa. "No cheating. Buzz in your answers."

Bokuto was first to slap his palm to the floor, and the group's attention fell on him immediately. "Can you really make crème brûlée?"

"Kou, no cheating! I'm not revealing a thing until I hear some guesses," Atsumu sounded smug, and Oikawa felt himself smile as he thought of the group getting along.

"Well, then I don't believe you can make crème brûlée," Bokuto continued, and Atsumu gave him the biggest look of offense in response.

Oikawa took that as a hint that it was one of his truths, remaining quiet as he observed Atsumu for any more signs of the truth. He had believed he was from New York, but he also didn't want to think of Atsumu spending his time bleaching his body hair.

Kageyama slapped the floor enthusiastically, speaking up before anyone could tell him to, "Your pubes aren't bleached."

Atsumu ran his hand through his hair as he laughed, eventually giving Kageyama a high-five to congratulate his correct guess.

"You are from Japan?" Ushijima asked immediately, and Atsumu nodded quickly.

"Born in Hyogo and everything. Only spent a few months there before coming to New York though."

Oikawa clicked his tongue before giving Atsumu a competitive smile, allowing the boy to stick his tongue out at him in retaliation. He was just glad he hadn't guessed incorrectly, because he was really enjoying the high of being right about everyone so far.

Next up was Yaku, who attempted to fool everyone with, "I'm 170 cm tall. I can speak six different languages. I began my Russian ballet training at seven years old."

It didn't take long for the group to attack him with multiple rounds of, "you're not 170 cm!"s, until eventually Yaku stood from his split and walked around the circle to smack each of their heads once.

"You can really speak six languages then?" asked Oikawa after Yaku finished his round of slapping.

"Yeah, the Russian ballet company I was with traveled through Europe all the time, and the best way to learn a language is from pillow talk, right?"

Atsumu laughed before holding out a hand for Yaku to slap and hold onto, letting out a low, "my boy."

Oikawa only shook his head at the interaction, but he smiled to himself happily before looking to Ushijima for him to continue with the game.

Ushijima nodded dutifully. "My ballet career started at three years old, and I am left handed. My lie is, hmm, that I enjoy New York so far."

The group remained silent as they exchanged looks, almost as if they were urging someone to tell Ushijima that he had messed up the game. Instead, they maintained the unbearable silence until they couldn't do anything but laugh– loudly and violently. Some of them lied their upper bodies flat on the floor and slammed against it with their fists as they laughed, others even broke their split positions to curl up in a ball and clutch their stomachs.

While Ushijima looked confused at the outcome of his turn, he still smiled proudly at the thought that his lie was  _ that  _ funny.

Oikawa could only slap at Ushijima's back in laughter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa and Kuroo finally meet, sorta.

It didn't take long for the group to warm up to each other, especially after the multitude of games and trust fall exercises Oikawa tortured them with. But, aside from Yaku not trusting Kageyama to catch him and ultimately blowing up about the flooded bathroom, the trust exercises ended in laughter.

So, this now brought them to their fourth group class. For their prior classes, Oikawa had been going easy on them. He realized that the group dynamic was new, so he decided to hold off on any serious choreography.

But, he had recently rediscovered Tchaikovsky's entire discography, so he was eager to give the group some lifts to do.

Their class lasted nearly forty minutes before several harsh knocks at the studio door scared Oikawa into stopping the music entirely. But, when he opened the door, he was met with one of  _ BAE _ 's directors, and he quickly waved for him to enter. A man who looked to be about Oikawa's age trailed in after the director, and Oikawa raised his eyebrows at him questioningly.

The group, who had been sprawled across the studio floor for a moment's break, shot up to immediate attention as their eyes landed on the director. Oikawa joined them in line, standing tall with his arms hooked behind his back.

"I'm happy to see things are going well with this group," the director began with a smile, moving his attention to and from each boy that stood in front of him. "I've brought a gift. I've just let Daichi here join  _ BAE  _ for a paid internship opportunity. He is a student at Baruch College, studying Sports Science. This is a new opportunity for both of you, so treat him well."

The group responded with a chorus of "understood"s and nods, and the director pushed Daichi forward to meet them before making his way out of the studio.

Oikawa eyed Daichi curiously, observing the way he stood and surveyed the group in silence.

"Hi, everyone," he finally greeted them with a wave.

"You're Japanese as well?" Hinata asked immediately, and Daichi raised his eyebrows in return.

"No, I'm American. I'm from Pennsylvania actually."

"But you look Japanese."

"My parents were Japanese," Daichi continued, giving Hinata a smile as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Feeling the atmosphere threaten to grow awkward, Oikawa moved to stand beside Daichi. Once again facing the dance group, he rested a hand lightly against Daichi's arm before giving the group an almost mischievous grin.

"Should we play another bonding game with Daichi as our new addition?"

Daichi's hands were already waving out in front of him to decline, but Oikawa caught excited nods from Hinata, Yaku, Nishinoya, and Bokuto, so he gave Daichi's arm a few pats before leading him to the floor.

Once again the boys found themselves in a circle, but there were no splits done this time. A few of them sat in butterfly stretches, but that didn't do much for their already hyperflexible muscles.

"Okay, let's see," Daichi began with a wary look around the group. Oikawa had insisted he contribute to two truths and a lie. "I attended police academy for a week. I have an ankle tattoo, and I am an only child."

Two palms immediately slapped down to the floor, and Daichi's eyes widened in surprise, only making Oikawa laugh.

"Tsumu and I buzzed at the same time, so decide who guesses first," Oikawa advised the new trainer/intern, attempting to give him a calming smile when he looked at him in distress. "Actually, I'll allow Tsumu to make his guess first."

"How sweet," Atsumu cooed. "Daichi, your lie is that you're an only child."

Daichi looked perplexed as he stared back at Atsumu, and Oikawa grimaced at the fact that Atsumu’s guess was identical to his.

"How could you tell?"

"Your vibes. Only children give off specific vibes," Atsumu gave a little wave as he explained, eventually pointing at Ushijima. "He has only child vibes."

Ushijima returned the comment with a simple nod. "That is true."

“That means you really have an ankle tattoo.” Nishinoya was quick to crawl until he sat directly in front of Daichi.

The group huddled around Daichi with newfound curiosity, pestering him until he finally caved and rolled up his pant leg to reveal two small daisies connected by one stem.

“It’s so cute!” Hinata screeched.

Oikawa’s mouth gaped open in awe as he stared down at the cute little flowers, and he wanted to ask what they meant but Ushijima beat him to it.

“Oh, I got it on impulse because my roommates dragged me to the tattoo shop. But hey! With my socks, they’re potted daisies!”

Their second game of two truths and a lie ended there, with only one turn. The group didn't bother to move from the floor as they returned to stretching, choosing to listen to Daichi’s life story rather than follow Oikawa’s sloppy, half-Swan Lake, half-Nutcracker choreography.

• • •

Apparently Oikawa's new ballet group was prone to trouble and injury.

It was only their third class with Daichi when he needed to step up and showcase his athletic trainer internship skills.

Unsurprisingly, it was Nishinoya that had injured himself. Although, according to him, he was perfectly fine. Even with one ankle swelling to the size of his calf, he insisted he was fine.

"Is there somewhere specific you send your guys to?" Daichi asked quickly, and Oikawa only gave him a look of utter confusion in response. "Like, are you partnered with a specific medical place? Because I'm not making a splint for that ankle without it being x-rayed."

"We typically try not to injure ourselves, but when we do, we're sent home and told to go to our doctors on our own. Why?"

Daichi didn't bother trying to hide his horror, letting his mouth open and close a few times before speaking, "well, there's an urgent care a few blocks down. I used to work there."

Oikawa nodded at his words, otherwise remaining quiet as he waited for Daichi to continue. Daichi stared back at him expectantly, eventually sighing and moving to hoist Nishinoya up from the floor with an arm wrapped around his waist.

"I'll take him there. Would you like to come along?"

"Sure, of course."

Oikawa left the group in the hands of Yaku, who he believed to be most mature of the bunch, which was really saying something because Yaku  _ still  _ hadn't fully forgiven everyone for laughing in his face when he said he was 170 cm tall.

Daichi was right; there really was an urgent care only four blocks down from  _ BAE _ , and Oikawa stared at it in disbelief. He had lived right beside  _ BAE  _ for four years and never seen it in his life.

Upon entering, Oikawa immediately took a look around and rested his eyes on the colorful chairs of the waiting room. He readjusted Nishinoya's weight on his arm before taking small steps toward the front counter, allowing Daichi to lead the way.

"No way you're showing your face back here, Daichi," the boy behind the counter stood to greet them. His hair was blonde, and underneath he was sporting a dark undercut. It reminded Oikawa of Atsumu.

Daichi only laughed back at him, and Oikawa smiled at the interaction before nodding his head in greeting when the boy looked his way.

"Yuuji, this is Tooru. Tooru, Yuuji." Daichi waved between the two before grabbing for a pen and signing in on behalf of Nishinoya, who was weirdly silent as he drooped all of his weight against Oikawa's side.

"Hey." Terushima waved. "So you're who's stuck with Daichi now."

"That I am."

Daichi let out a small gasp beside Oikawa, but Oikawa simply ignored it in favor of giving Terushima a smile.

"Let me get a wheelchair for you!" A soft voice came and went before Oikawa could discover its owner, but after only a few seconds, a freckled boy with green-brown hair circled around the corner and approached with a wheelchair.

The boy lifted Nishinoya out of Oikawa's hold with minimal effort, helping him hop over and settle down into the wheelchair. As soon as he finished, the boy gave Oikawa an almost childish grin, and Oikawa couldn't help himself from following him to where he led Nishinoya.

"And what's your name?"

The boy seemed almost shocked that someone would ask him such a thing, but the color in his cheeks let Oikawa know that it wasn't a misstep. Perhaps no one bothered to learn medical assistants' names at urgent care.

"I'm Tadashi."

"And I'm Tooru. Nice to meet you. Thank you for the wheelchair." Oikawa signalled toward it with a hand, stopping when his eyes landed on Nishinoya's uncharacteristic glare.

Yamaguchi shuffled around the wheelchair to face Nishinoya straight on, setting a clipboard in his lap and giving it two taps. "That's some paperwork for you to fill out before you're seen."

Nishinoya gave Yamaguchi a thumbs-up and a smile before unclipping the pen from the clipboard and scribbling almost angrily. Oikawa could only shake his head at him, but his attention was brought back to the boy beside him when he noticed he was looking at him.

"Daichi said you'll be doing a partnership with us?"

Oikawa snorted out a small chuckle, resting his hands on his hips as he followed Yamaguchi back to the front. "Daichi may be getting a bit ahead of himself, but I'll take business cards to the  _ BAE  _ directors anyway."

Yamaguchi nodded excitedly before waving for him to join him at the side of the counter, to which Oikawa followed easily. He stood with his elbows leaning against the counter, holding all of his upper body weight while Yamaguchi laid more pages of paperwork out in front of him.

Oikawa followed along wordlessly as Yamaguchi explained where he needed to fill out information and sign, and the words eventually became distant as Oikawa's attention moved onto the new addition in the urgent care waiting room.

The man stood tall and proud for just a moment, and then his shoulders slumped as he dragged his feet to the opposite corner of the front counter. He clicked his pen and circled at the paper on the clipboard, and Oikawa's curiosity made him want to ask the man what he was doing.

"I can't believe that lady is back for  _ another  _ IND." The man whined, letting his head fall to smack against the clipboard before shooting back up quickly. "Those things  _ stink  _ so bad."

Yamaguchi moved from in front of Oikawa to stand across from the mysterious urgent care worker, and Oikawa followed everything with his eyes.

"Tetsu, we have people in the waiting room."

At Yamaguchi's words, Kuroo turned and looked to Nishinoya warily, but he ended up waving it off instead.

"He's not even paying attention." Kuroo re-clicked his pen and slipped it into his pocket, turning away from the counter. "Is he an x-ray?"

"Yup," came from Terushima.

Kuroo clapped his hands together in what Oikawa guessed was excitement, eventually leaving without another word and swinging the clipboard at his side.

Oikawa watched him as he handed the clipboard to a man in a white coat, obviously explaining whatever was written on it before practically bouncing toward another part of the clinic Oikawa could no longer see.

"Sorry about him. He gets really excited over ortho stuff," Daichi explained, although Oikawa was confused as to why he felt the need to.

Terushima laughed out quickly, "knowing him, he's probably singing back in the x-ray room."

Yamaguchi's attention returned to Oikawa only a moment later, and Oikawa let out a low apology before shuffling the papers in front of him in preparation to read through them once more.

When he finished, he returned to Nishinoya's side, taking the pen and paperwork from his hands and walking them back up to the front counter.

"Nishinoya?" Kuroo's voice returned as a question, and Yamaguchi hopped up from his seat to jog around the counter again. "You all ready, bud?"

Oikawa could only laugh silently into his hand at the front seat show of Nishinoya holding out his hands and making wrangling motions with them. With his teeth gritted, he gave Kuroo vicious looks as he practically growled out, "do you think I'm a kid! I'm a grown man!"

Kuroo's eyes remained wide as he stood vulnerably in front of Nishinoya, but he eventually laughed loudly and walked off– Yamaguchi following closely behind and wheeling Nishinoya alongside them.

"You're lucky Tetsu was too distracted to notice you, Daichi." Terushima leaned back in his seat and spinned in it cockily.

Daichi huffed out in amusement. "I'll tell him I was here when he gets home tonight. He'll be so sad he missed me."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now they really meet, and Kuroo struggles.

Kuroo Tetsurou had a routine. It might've been a poorly constructed, very easily broken routine, but it was still a routine.

Like his biweekly roommate dinners. He kept up with those well enough, although if anyone were to ask either of his roommates, the credit would go to them.

For this biweekly dinner, they were having instant ramen with discount pork from their bodega. Maybe, if they were feeling risqué, they would fry eggs to throw on top of everything.

At least, that's what Kuroo was hoping for as he lounged across the entirety of the living room couch with his mouth watering.

Luckily for him, he could without a doubt say that his roommates were food fanatics just like him, if not more. Actually, definitely more. They were the biggest eaters he knew. Iwaizumi Hajime and Sawamura Daichi.

He had met them both in college, with Daichi actually being his freshman year roommate. Apparently Daichi and Iwaizumi were both headed down the Sports Science pathway, so Kuroo ended up meeting Iwaizumi through Daichi.

It didn't take long for their friendship to develop, mainly because there was nothing for them to disagree over. They all held the same aspirations, even leading them to end up at the same job. A job that Kuroo found for each of them (he would never let them forget that). 

Especially because Daichi had recently ditched said job for an internship. An internship that both Kuroo and Iwaizumi had also applied to but failed to get in.

They were only  _ slightly  _ disappointed.

Actually, Kuroo was still in the process of giving Daichi the silent treatment, and Iwaizumi had disappeared off of the grid for two days.

Okay, he didn’t  _ disappear _ , he simply stayed at a friend’s dorm for the night, but Kuroo was convinced it was because they were teamed up against Daichi.

That’s why, as Kuroo waited on the couch for Daichi’s inevitable return, he was also staring Iwaizumi down almost threateningly.

The man wasn’t paying him any mind anyway, instead crossing off information Kuroo couldn’t see on the calendar in the kitchen.

“I’m home!” Daichi’s voice rang out into the silent apartment, and only a few seconds later Kuroo watched as he joined him in the living room. “Sorry I’m late. Ballet dancers practice for a lot longer than I thought.”

Iwaizumi stepped out of the kitchen with a sharpie still in his hand, leaning against the counter as he looked Daichi up and down.

“How was it?”

Kuroo jumped up from the couch at the speed of light. “Hajime! What happened to Daichi’s silent treatment?”

Daichi’s attention turned to him immediately, and Kuroo huffed before snapping his head to the side.

“How long are you keeping this up?” Daichi’s voice sounded smug, and Kuroo let out another huff for good measure.

“Longer than four days, that’s for sure.”

A low mumble left Iwaizumi’s mouth before he turned and slipped back into the kitchen, leaving Kuroo to stare down at Daichi in silence.

“Did you know I stopped by work today?” Daichi gave him a tight-lipped smile, and Kuroo crossed his arms as he looked back at him. “You were distracted, but the x-ray was one of my guys.”

“ _ Wow _ , one of your guys?  _ I  _ used to be one of your guys.”

“What are you going on about? We literally live together.”

“We used to head to work together,” Kuroo continued as if Daichi hadn’t spoken. “We used to get excited over x-rays  _ together _ .”

“I hated x-rays.”

“There you go, switching up like always.” Kuroo shook his head in mock disappointment, pushing past Daichi to get to the kitchen. 

“Tetsu, stop being a brat,” Iwaizumi was quick to reprimand him, and Kuroo  _ would  _ have been fine with it if it wasn’t accompanied by Daichi’s laughter behind him.

“Aren’t you pissed, Hajime? A  _ paid  _ internship for Sports Science students? I’m only being a brat because I’m upset  _ for  _ you.”

Iwaizumi’s amusement was given away by the laugh he failed to keep hidden, but he crossed his arms to appear nonchalant anyway. “A bunch of dudes jumping around in tights isn’t what I have in mind for Sports Science, but I appreciate the concern.”

“They wear sweatpants during practice,” Daichi mumbled lowly, and that was finally the breaking point for Kuroo.

A laugh bubbled from his chest, until eventually Daichi was patting at his shoulder as he laughed with him.

“Don’t get this twisted, I’m still mad at you,” Kuroo choked out after the laughter died down a bit.

Daichi’s patting at his shoulder ended, only to be replaced with his weight as he lifted himself to his tippie toes and wrapped an arm over Kuroo’s upper body.

“Oh, you can’t hold a grudge to save your life.”

“Can to!”

“Is dinner happening or not?” Iwaizumi interrupted grumpily, and Kuroo whipped around to face him immediately.

Iwaizumi was left to grumble under his breath as Kuroo did a slow jog to reach him, obnoxiously throwing his arms around him in a hug, accompanied with a, “if you wanted affection all you had to do was ask, Hajime!”

Iwaizumi was quick to shove him off, grabbing the pot from the kitchen counter and shoving it toward Kuroo’s abdomen. Kuroo wrapped both hands around the pot with a grunt at the impact, but he recovered quickly and flipped the handle around in one hand before filling it with water.

Conversation was kept light throughout the preparation of dinner, which finally gave Daichi time to explain how his first few days at  _ BAE  _ had gone. Most of it was introducing those in the ballet group, as if Kuroo and Iwaizumi had any clue who any of them were.

“One of them injured his ankle today. You know him.” Daichi waved his hand as he explained, and Kuroo mocked him as he waved his hand in the same manner.

“I had four different x-rays today. I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Yuu.”

“Me?”

“No, Yuu. Nishinoya Yuu. He was one of your x-rays. I brought him in, and you completely missed me.” Daichi had to set his chopsticks down so he could rub at his chest. Apparently he had sucked in a noodle too fast because he found Kuroo funny.

“Oh! The Grade 1 ankle strain.” Kuroo lit up with realization. “He does ballet?”

“Yeah. He’s really good at it too. He played Conrad in La Scala Theatre Ballet’s production of  _ Le Corsaire.  _ With his height, that’s  _ impressive _ .”

Kuroo and Iwaizumi stayed silent as Daichi ranted excitedly, sparing each other side-looks when he was finished.

“Was that English?” asked Iwaizumi.

“Oh god, they’ve brainwashed you already!” whined Kuroo.

“Who is Conrad?” Iwaizumi continued. “What is  _ Le Corsaire _ ?”

“Daichi gets excited over  _ ballet  _ stuff now! Brainwashed!”

Daichi watched them, unamused. He shook his head slightly before returning his attention to his ramen.

“ _ Le Corsaire  _ is a poem. How do you perform a poem?” Iwaizumi asked after a moment, and Kuroo glanced at him to find that he had searched it up on Google.

Kuroo reached over to snatch his phone from him, turning it until it faced him. “ _ Ooh _ , pirates. Sounds interesting.”

“Who’s the one being brainwashed now.”

Kuroo scrunched his nose at Daichi teasingly, choosing not to respond and instead tossing Iwaizumi’s phone back to him.

• • •

Kuroo’s routine mostly relied on his urgent care job. On days he didn’t work, his routine was easily thrown for a loop. Luckily, he worked pretty often. Unluckily, this meant his body’s natural alarm clock woke him up by 8 AM even on his days off. 

Although, today was a work day, so waking up at 8 AM came in handy for his shift starting at 9.

He wore black scrubs underneath a maroon hoodie. It was nearing the end of September now, so the weather had been growing colder and colder.

Walking into his shift, he found that his coworkers for the day were Yamaguchi and Daishou. Daishou Suguru. Boy, did Kuroo dislike working with him– not for any particular reason, but he just teased him endlessly. At least Yamaguchi was always reliable.

The shift continued without a single hitch. Hirugami was the provider for the day, and he usually let the front staff do whatever they pleased as long they got their jobs done.

Yamaguchi continued to outshine nearly everyone else in the patient care department. And Daishou was well, Daishou. He was stuck working the front so most of his shift consisted of shooing away people with out-of-network insurances and giving others the billing department's information. Kuroo worked the back, and gladly too. He much preferred vitals to insurance information.

It was a Saturday, so the crowd died down by 3 PM, leaving the three to sit around and spin in their chairs.

Daishou watched videos on his phone with the volume unnecessarily loud, and Yamaguchi seemed to be reading something off of his own phone.

Kuroo tapped away at Baruch’s website from his phone, double checking his assignments while he had free time at work.

It didn’t last long, and soon the electronic bell above the door signalled a new patient’s entrance. All three medical assistants’ heads shot up from their phones, and they pocketed them before cheering out “hello”s.

“Hey, how are you guys?” The man greeted them with a smile, and Kuroo felt his eyebrows lift ever so slightly at the sight of him. He had obviously just finished exercising, not bothering to change out of his shorts and thin t-shirt– not that Kuroo was complaining.

“Have you been with us before?” Daishou cut to the chase as the man signed himself in on a sticker.

“Not as a patient, no.” The man patted at his sticker when he was finished. He lifted the sign-in clipboard and handed it to Daishou, making him blink in surprise. “Ah, Tadashi. Nice to see you again.”

Yamaguchi sat up at the greeting, nodding quickly as he scooted his seat next to Daishou’s. He took the patient’s photo ID and insurance cards from him, setting them down on the counter before handing him paperwork. “Here you go. I’m surprised you remembered my name.”

Kuroo’s eyes moved between the two and narrowed, and he crossed his arms in an almost threatening manner when Daishou stopped signing the patient in and opted for chatting with him instead.

“Suguru is a very nice name, I’d say,” the patient was speaking as he filled out his paperwork. “It means superior.”

Daishou relished in the compliment, and Kuroo scowled before finally stepping out of the back desk’s hidden nook and allowing himself to be seen.

“Hey there.”

The patient glanced up at the new addition in the otherwise empty waiting room, his eyes scanning Kuroo so speedily that he barely even noticed.

“Hi.” He returned to his paperwork after offering a small smile, and Kuroo followed the pen with his eyes as it glided across the page easily.

Kuroo stood in place awkwardly, suddenly coming to the realization that the room’s previous small talk had come to an end right as he chose to reveal himself.

Yamaguchi was back in his chair, hiding his phone underneath the desk as he scrolled through something Kuroo couldn't see. Daishou had returned his attention to registering the new patient, now running his ID through the scanner.

The patient was nearly finished with his paperwork from what Kuroo could tell, and he couldn’t tell if he should awkwardly shuffle back into his hidden nook or remain standing at the front desk.

He didn’t have much time to choose anyway, because Yamaguchi suddenly swirled to face him and shoved a clipboard into his hands. Kuroo looked down at it immediately, his eyes moving to the patient’s birthday before he could stop himself. July 20, 1994. 

A sigh of relief escaped Kuroo before he could stop himself, but luckily it was too quiet to be heard by anyone besides Yamaguchi, who only gave him a look of concern in response.

Either way, this meant that the patient was 21 years old, older than himself even. When Kuroo happened to find patients attractive, he tended to scold himself if they weren’t within the 19-25 range.

“Why are you suddenly out of it? Wake up,” Daishou’s voice was snappy, and so were his fingers as he snapped in Kuroo’s face. “I said, he has no copay so hurry up and take him back.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he spared a glance across the counter to find the patient– Oikawa Tooru, according to the chart in his hands– looking at him expectantly.

“Oh, yeah. You can come on back with me.”

By the time Kuroo and Oikawa were in room 1, Kuroo had found his groove again and obtained vitals naturally. But that didn’t stop him from totally checking out the man as he did so, and as he clipped the pulse oximeter onto Oikawa’s index finger he couldn’t help but awe at the state of his hands.

He just hoped that maybe Oikawa was extremely dense and wouldn’t notice that Kuroo had basically been ogling him since he had walked in.

“I’m not sick or anything,” Oikawa began shortly after Kuroo asked what brought him in. “I just wanted to get my legs checked out real quick.”

_ Oh, they’re getting checked out, don’t worry _ , Kuroo thought as he scanned them, but he blinked and shook his head at himself subtly.  _ No hitting on a patient, creep. _

“I went for a run earlier, and my legs felt kinda stiff; I’m not sure how to explain.” Oikawa stretched his legs out in front of him, holding them in the air as he twisted them every which way effortlessly. Kuroo could only admire the sight in silence. “They shouldn’t be stiff because I exercise every day, but a new friend just recently hurt himself so now I feel overly cautious.”

“Totally understandable!” Kuroo forced himself to say  _ anything _ . He clicked his pen and scribbled at the corner of the patient chart to force his eyes away from the muscular pair of legs  _ still  _ being held in the air in front of him.

Oikawa’s legs finally fell back down and returned to dangling beside the patient chair, and Kuroo released another sigh of relief before clicking his pen closed.

“Well, the provider will be with you shortly!”

“Thank you,” Oikawa chirped out just before Kuroo could slip out of the room, and Kuroo returned his smile before shutting the door after him.

He dragged his feet until he handed Oikawa’s chart to Hirugami, immediately turning and making a beeline for the front counter. Without bothering to walk around and return to his back desk nook, Kuroo leaned against the counter and stared down at Yamaguchi with wide eyes.

“What is it, Testu?” Yamaguchi asked as he stared back with eyes just as wide.

“Just how illegal is it to hit on a patient?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo struggles, again.

Kuroo wished he was smooth. Or at least, that he could live a _normal_ kind of lifestyle without finding himself in compromising situations. Someone more like Yamaguchi, who seemed to just go to work and live an otherwise calm, peaceful life.

But no, Kuroo was _not_ smooth, and definitely _not_ normal. This fact only became more apparent as September turned to October.

Daichi had been interning at _BAE_ for nearly a month now, and Kuroo and Iwaizumi had since gotten used to the multitude of stories that they only half-understood but Daichi insisted on telling anyway.

The stories comprised of faceless characters like ‘Tsumu, or Mori, or ‘Toshi, or Tobio, or Sho, or Kou, or– wait Kuroo had a face for this one– Noya, or _Cap_. Short for Captain, who apparently didn’t have a name, or a face.

Despite not knowing what the cast of Daichi’s stories looked like, Kuroo still listened intently and wholeheartedly. Apparently a group of male ballet dancers could be interesting.

Daichi filled their dinners with “ _Noya’s ankle is all better– he proved it with a flip_ ” and “ _Tobio walked into the wrong apartment yesterday_ ” and “ _can you believe Mori_ still _hasn’t forgiven ‘Toshi?_ ”

Kuroo and Iwaizumi pretended to know what Mori had yet to forgive ‘Toshi for.

That’s why, when Daichi returned home one day and disrupted Kuroo’s (very important) task of ignoring his schoolwork to invite him to a party, Kuroo accepted right away. He had to put faces to the names. He had to meet the men that had given Daichi so many stories within the span of one month.

Saturday, October 10th. Kuroo had work. The party’s designated start time was 7, and Kuroo’s shift ended at 7.

It’s not as if Saturdays had him running all over the place and sweating, so he decided he would bring a change of clothes to the urgent care and walk over to the party from there. It was only four blocks down anyway.

Iwaizumi rarely worked weekends, so he stuck by Daichi’s side as they entered the party together. Kuroo was left to arrive late on his own.

As soon as 7 o’clock arrived, Kuroo waved goodbye to his coworkers for the night, and instead of turning left to head for the train, he pulled out his phone and memorized the short distance to the apartment complex the party was held in.

He may have been in upper Manhattan, but he was not going to be caught dead with his head down in Google Maps. 

Kuroo made it to the building easily enough, and he pressed random buzzers until eventually the apartment complex door unlocked for him. He swung an arm out to catch the door before it could lock again, stepping inside and glancing around warily. (He was sure he hadn’t really buzzed the right door, but someone was always expecting someone.)

“Can you hold that for me, sorry!” A strained voice sounded from behind Kuroo, and he turned just in time to see a man holding grocery bags in each hand squeeze through the door before it locked behind him.

Kuroo felt himself freeze in place as soon as he got a good look at the guy. He wasn’t in his running attire, instead donned in slacks and a button down, but it was the patient with the nice legs from the urgent care! Kuroo stared in shock, feeling his mouth open and close a few times before it finally settled on, “do you live here?”

“Do _you_ live here? You buzzed every single apartment just to get in.”

“Uh, it’s a bad habit.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes at him questioningly, shifting the bags in his hands before stepping around him and heading toward the elevator.

“And!” Kuroo called out after him, jogging to stay beside him. “That means you were watching me. How long were you watching me?”

Oikawa stayed silent as he waited patiently for the elevator, and Kuroo usually wouldn’t have minded, but it was the beautiful patient from that day weeks ago! He needed to say something. Did Oikawa even remember him?

“So, are your legs doing okay?”

Oikawa’s head snapped to its right to give Kuroo a look, but a smile replaced his confusion and Kuroo watched his shoulders visibly fall in relief.

“That’s a strange question to be asked by a random man that buzzed at everyone’s door just to enter an apartment building.” Oikawa’s tone was teasing, so Kuroo didn’t put much thought into the implications of his words. “My legs are alright. How are you… I never caught your name.”

“Tetsurou,” Kuroo responded hurriedly, finding himself moving once more as he squeezed himself into the elevator beside Oikawa. “People just say Tetsu.”

“Okay, _Tetsu_ ,” Oikawa tried it out, and Kuroo found himself nodding encouragingly for no reason. “What floor are you headed to?”

Kuroo finally noticed that Oikawa’s index finger had been hovering in the air in front of the elevator buttons, making him immediately stiffen on the spot. One, he had no clue what floor the party was on. Two, he already looked creepy enough.

“Okay, you _obviously_ do not live here, so where are you going?” Oikawa continued, and Kuroo released a heavy sigh before folding his arms almost cockily.

“My friend got an internship at some weird ballet place, so they invited him to a party tonight– it’s supposed to be in this building. But, you know, now that we’re chatting and all, I’d much rather hang with you than some _male ballerinas._ I imagine the party’s probably super gay and prissy anyway.”

A laugh jutted out from Oikawa’s chest, and Kuroo smiled to himself proudly. In fact, the pride swelled within him and encouraged him to continue: “I don’t get it. Why ballet? And _all male_? At least be in it for the chicks or something, I don’t know.”

Oikawa’s laughter grew until he was clutching at his stomach, and Kuroo could only watch him in a mix of awe and confusion. Sure, he was funny, but was he _that_ funny?

“I’ve heard–” Oikawa started, stopping to gasp for air before leaning his elbow against Kuroo’s shoulder. “I’ve heard that the men will jump into each other’s arms! They all _have_ to be gay!”

Kuroo laughed with him, subconsciously pressing closer to him and allowing Oikawa’s weight to fall further and further on his shoulder. His hand inched toward Oikawa’s until Kuroo slipped the grocery bags between his fingers and took them into his own.

“I’ve heard that too! My friend tells me stories all the time!”

“Oh _god_ , your friend must hate his internship,” Oikawa nearly wheezed.

Kuroo calmed down a bit at this, shuffling to stand tall once more. “Actually, he really likes it. He’s gotten attached to the male ballerinas.”

Oikawa’s arm fell from Kuroo’s shoulder, but Kuroo didn’t have time to mourn its loss before the elevator doors opened up and Oikawa stepped out. Kuroo followed him like a lost puppy, remaining close behind him as he led them down the narrow hallway.

“Wait, Tooru, are you actually taking me to your apartment?”

“Yes.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows rose with surprise, and the corners of his mouth twitched up into a grin as he sped up to walk alongside Oikawa.

He’d have to text Daichi that he decided not to go to the party, or at the very least that he’d be arriving late. Somehow, his good fortune and fate had all aligned to bring him to–

“We’re here.” Oikawa turned to him with a smile that Kuroo would've dared to call _mischievous_ , and he watched as Oikawa twisted the doorknob to his apartment and threw the door open to reveal about a dozen people already inside.

_Wait._

“Welcome to the gay, prissy ballet party. You made it!” Oikawa cheered, his tone now dripping with sarcasm. “I’m actually the host.”

Kuroo blinked, twice. He remained motionless in front of the door left ajar, which allowed the party guests to look out at him in either confusion or exasperation.

“Nice to see you again, Tetsu,” Oikawa’s words left his mouth in a smooth whisper, and they reached Kuroo’s ears just as Oikawa’s hand grazed his and took the grocery bags that hung there limply.

Kuroo stared at Oikawa’s back in silence as he made his way into his apartment, waving and offering smiles to a few of the guests that he passed on the way.

 _Why the hell was that elevator ride so long?_ _Why the hell did I say all that!_

“When did you get here?” Daichi’s voice appeared in the doorway, finally making Kuroo look up from the floor, where he had been staring in shame since Oikawa left his side. “I’m surprised you found the place. I realized I forgot to tell you what room we’re in.”

“You forgot to tell me that Tooru is the host!”

“You know him?” Daichi was smiling, and that pissed Kuroo off. “Tooru’s the captain. Isn’t he great?”

Ah, _Cap_. Now Kuroo had a face, as well as a name for the once faceless and nameless character in Daichi’s stories.

“Yeah, he _is_ great! And I just called him prissy! And gay! Not that that’s a bad thing, but what if it is to him? Daichi, how could you do this to me?” Kuroo shook Daichi violently as he yelled.

“ _Why_ did you do that?”

“Well, it’s not like I did it to his face!” Kuroo still shook Daichi mercilessly. “Actually, I did, but it’s not like I meant it! You know how Hajime jokes about your internship. I was just doing the same!”

Daichi’s smile dropped faster than Kuroo could step back into the hallway, and he felt himself shudder as Daichi glowered at him.

“I’m going to apologize!” Kuroo pleaded, clasping his palms together as he peeked at Daichi through one eye. “In fact, I’ll do it right now.”

Kuroo shoved past his roommate and finally entered the apartment, scanning the room for the familiar head of hair that he had insulted only moments before.

“At least say happy birthday to ‘Tsumu and Noya. They’re both turning 20.” Daichi’s presence returned behind him, and Kuroo felt Daichi’s palm slap between his shoulder blades.

Kuroo ignored him in favor of continuing his search. His eyes moved around the apartment frantically, finally stopping when they landed on the sight of a laughing Oikawa– who was with none other than Iwaizumi– in the corner of the living room.

Filled with newfound determination, Kuroo pressed his way further into the apartment, eventually stomping across the living room until he stood side by side with his second roommate.

“Hey, Tetsu,” greeted Iwaizumi.

Kuroo didn’t spare him a glance, instead facing Oikawa and taking note of his cheery expression.

“I didn’t mean what I said. I was just talking to fill the silence, I swear. You’re not prissy, and _I’m_ gay.”

“What the hell?” Iwaizumi shoved at Kuroo’s arm slightly, and Kuroo narrowed his eyes at the upward twitch of the corners of Oikawa’s mouth.

“I don’t even think that stuff about male ballerinas, I swear! And I called you cool, didn’t I? I think you’re cool.”

Oikawa remained quiet, but his hand had since come up to cover his mouth in what Kuroo assumed was silent laughter. Kuroo was prepared to keep going, despite Iwaizumi’s presence and judgement.

“Tooru,” a new voice penetrated the makeshift circle that Kuroo, Iwaizumi, and Oikawa had formed. “Atsumu’s brother doesn’t know where you put the groceries.”

“Ah, you’ll have to excuse me, Hajime.” Oikawa offered, giving Iwaizumi a smile and nod before shuffling past Kuroo entirely.

Kuroo watched as Oikawa walked away _again_ , before Iwaizumi stepped out in front of him and crossed his arms expectantly, effectively blocking the view.

“What even _was_ that? You come out to random strangers now?”

“Fuck off,” Kuroo choked out, and Iwaizumi only laughed at his expense before stalking off and rejoining the party.

Yeah, Kuroo _really_ wished he was smooth. Or at least, that he could live a normal kind of lifestyle without finding himself in compromising situations.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even in Oikawa's POV, Kuroo struggles.

With the weather growing colder, only one thing was on the ballerinos’ minds: The Nutcracker.

Auditions for the New York City Ballet ( _ NYCB _ )’s showing of Nutcracker would be underway by the end of October, and nearly all of  _ BAE  _ had been practicing overtime. Of them all, Oikawa might have been the most determined. (Which was really saying something, because Nishinoya  _ refused  _ to not get a part.)

The ballet group separated, for the most part. At least for the time being, while they each honed their individual skills in the hopes to impress  _ NYCB _ ’s judges.

That’s not to say that they didn’t still live together, or have daily classes together. The only thing that really changed was that the group rarely saw each other outside of their joint classes anymore. They especially saw Oikawa the least. 

Oikawa, as well as Atsumu and Bokuto, were the three of the group that had been in New York for an extended period of time. Oikawa and Bokuto had only debuted as professionals one year ago, and despite their talents, they did not make it through  _ NYCB _ ’s audition process last year. Atsumu hadn’t yet graduated from pre-professional at the time, so this year would be his first  _ NYCB  _ audition experience.

Oikawa was utterly determined to pass the auditions this go-round, and he definitely wouldn’t let Atsumu surpass him.

All of this was why Oikawa found himself on the floor of  _ BAE  _ studio 6, curled into himself as he desperately clutched at his left ankle. Small, hissing sounds escaped through gritted teeth as tears pricked the back of his eyes.  _ Fuck. _

How it happened, Oikawa wasn’t even entirely sure. He just knew he was in trouble. Daichi would reprimand him, Bokuto would probably cry for him, Atsumu might laugh at him, Yaku would smack him.

He had a tiny inkling that what he had done to himself was basically what Nishinoya had dealt with a few weeks prior. It wasn’t far-fetched, seeing as ankle sprains and strains are some of the most common injuries amongst dancers.

Oikawa lifted himself onto one foot, wobbling until he was forced to grasp the barre with white knuckles.

By now he had the four-block walk to the urgent care memorized, but he wasn’t entirely sure of how he would get there by himself. He knew that Daichi was in the building, as he always was, but the thought of calling him to tell him he injured himself made Oikawa shiver.

He ended up hopping with one leg until he reached his bag in the corner of the studio. The wall became his support system as he bent to throw the large bag over his shoulder, again wobbling as he stood tall once more.

After throwing the studio door open, Oikawa ventured out into  _ BAE _ ’s narrow hallway system with continuous hopping on his right foot. His heavy sports bag slipped further and further down his shoulder with each hop, until eventually Oikawa was sweating just from the extra pressure on his shoulder and all of the damn hopping his right leg was doing.

Just before reaching the exit, Oikawa let out a shaky yelp as he came face to face with Daichi, making his bag fall to the floor right beside his good foot.

Daichi didn’t even have to speak for Oikawa to feel his disappointment. It practically radiated off of him as he moved forward to wrap a sturdy arm around Oikawa’s waist.

“Are you serious? Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because I knew you’d freak out,” Oikawa joked, offering Daichi a loopy grin before letting his weight collapse into the man.

Daichi only clicked his tongue in response, reaching for Oikawa’s bag and throwing it over his shoulder effortlessly.

“C’mon, you know where we’re going.”

And that is how Oikawa ended up back at urgent care for the third time in a month. Although, when he walked in and made eye contact with Kuroo– who froze in place behind the counter– he figured that it wasn’t so bad. Oikawa hadn’t paid much attention to him when he first came in to check on his legs, but the interaction from just a week ago piqued his interest.

The urgent care staff became a mixed chorus of “Daichi!”s and “Tooru!”s at their entrance, and Oikawa responded with a small wave as Daichi dragged him to the front counter.

Oikawa couldn’t tell if he had visited too often lately or what, but he now recognized everyone working that day: Iwaizumi from the party, Daishou from his first visit, and of course Kuroo. Kuroo, who was staring at him with widened eyes and parted lips.

“Hello, Tooru. Go ahead and sign in.” Daishou directed his attention to the clipboard of stickers to fill out, and Oikawa followed. “Let me see if I remember your birthday. I know it was near the end of July. Uhh–”

“July 20th,” Kuroo butted in, and Oikawa’s eyes immediately shot up from the clipboard in response. “1994.”

“You’re just weird for that,” said Iwaizumi.

“Yeah. If I were Tooru, I’d be creeped out,” agreed Daishou.

Oikawa laughed at the banter, otherwise staying silent as he flipped the clipboard back to face Daishou.

Daichi, who had done a good job of holding half of Oikawa’s weight while remaining quiet, finally glared at his roommates until they blinked back at him in shock.

“Tadashi would have gotten the wheelchair by now, I hope you all know.”

Iwaizumi sprang into action, circling around the counter and returning with the same wheelchair Nishinoya had been put into a month prior. He held onto one of Oikawa’s arms as he helped him plop down into it, and Oikawa let a childish smile cover his face as the wheelchair was pushed every which way.

“I can do his vitals,” Kuroo spoke from behind the counter, and Oikawa fought back a grin as he turned to look at him.

“But I’m working back today.” Iwaizumi’s arms were folded over his chest as he stood behind Oikawa, ready to push the wheelchair into a patient room.

“I’ll do it for you.”

“You want to do my work for me?” Iwaizumi huffed out in amusement, and Oikawa turned just in time to find Daichi rolling his eyes. “Fine by me, weirdo.”

Iwaizumi pushed the wheelchair until Kuroo took it from him at the end of the counter, and Daishou waved down to Oikawa enthusiastically.

“I’ve got to say, I’m flattered to have people fight over who takes my vitals.”

“No fighting here. Tetsu’s just strange.” Iwaizumi’s response was quick, and Oikawa simply shook his head before waving bye as Kuroo wheeled him off to a patient room.

Once alone, the atmosphere grew very awkward, very quickly. Kuroo tapped at the wheelchair’s handles to fill the silence, and Oikawa had to hold the back of his hand to his mouth to stifle the laughter that had gathered there.

“Okay, you know the drill. I gotta do your vitals before the provider sees you,” Kuroo began confidently, but when he saw Oikawa’s barely contained laughter, he stumbled in his movements. “Uh, can you confirm your name and date of birth for me?”

“You proved to everyone that you’ve memorized my date of birth, Tetsu. And don’t tell me you don’t know my name.”

“I  _ do  _ know your name. This is just part of the job.” Kuroo sat the clipboard down on the patient table, and Oikawa raised a brow at him as he took a seat in the patient chair across from Oikawa. “Are you mad at me?”

Oikawa laughed at the question, and Kuroo glared back at him.

“Seriously, Tooru, are you?”

“Oh, I’m  _ pissed _ – super pissed off. Are you going to grovel?”

Kuroo's face was one of shock as he watched Oikawa fold his arms over his lap and grin. If his ankle wasn’t swelling to the size of his calf, Oikawa would have crossed his legs to accompany his body language.

Oikawa’s pride remained an immovable force as Kuroo shifted and spread his legs on the patient chair, crossing his arms and narrowing a deadly gaze back at him. In truth, Oikawa was far from pissed off. He simply enjoyed the panicked look that overtook Kuroo’s features.

“I don’t  _ grovel _ . Besides, you’re acting super confident for someone I can just send a kick to the ankle to and have screaming.”

“ _ Oh _ , threatening to make me scream now, are we?” Oikawa’s eyes flashed at the new competition. He could see Kuroo’s chest rise in anticipation. “I should tell your supervisor that you’re not taking a patient’s vitals for your own personal reasons.”

This seemed to dull Kuroo’s competitive spark, making his eyes drop from Oikawa’s and instead land on his ankle. “So, how’d you hurt it?”

“One too many tour jetés.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Suddenly interested in ballet? It’s not too gay for you anymore?” Oikawa pestered, and Kuroo waved his hands out in front of himself.

“No, no, hey, remember? I swear I’m gay. I wasn’t being a bigot.”

A snort left Oikawa’s nose before he could stop himself, and he brought a hand up to cover his face at the embarrassment. Kuroo only laughed at him, causing Oikawa to peek between his fingers and glare menacingly.

But Kuroo was already looking at him fondly, and Oikawa gritted his teeth before removing his hand from his face to yelp: “Don’t look at me like that! Just do my vitals already.”

“How could I when your adorableness is just so distracting?”

“Don’t call me adorable. I’m not adorable. I’m beautiful, and graceful,  _ not  _ adorable.” Oikawa ranted, and Kuroo only smiled in response. “Prick.”

“Hey!”

“A prick  _ and  _ a bigot. Aren’t healthcare workers supposed to be sweet? Like Tadashi, he’s sweet.”

“I’m not a bigot! I’ve told you I’m gay!” Kuroo was shouting now, and Oikawa had the idea that his coworkers could hear him now, making him laugh once more.

“Nothing to say about being a prick?”

An exasperated huff was all that left Kuroo before he eventually flung open the patient door and stomped out, and Oikawa was left to blink at the newly empty room.

Oikawa could hear the faint conversation between Kuroo and who Oikawa assumed was the provider, in which Kuroo explained why he couldn’t get the vitals but that otherwise it was a left ankle injury. Oikawa smiled to himself proudly– he won.

Kuroo left Oikawa’s chart with the provider and made his way back to the front desk, and with the commotion Oikawa could hear from his patient room, he could only assume that Kuroo was being interrogated or reprimanded. Remembering that Daichi was up there with them, Oikawa guessed that Kuroo was being reprimanded.

Oikawa’s visit didn’t last much longer, and it went exactly how Nishinoya’s had. A Grade 1 ankle strain, caused by Oikawa’s four hour solo practice that consisted of jumps and only jumps– The Nutcracker requires a lot of jumping.

Luckily, his ankle would be okay to dance on within a week, and by three weeks from now, it’d basically be good as new. Just in time for the Nutcracker auditions in two weeks.

Oikawa swung his crutches out in front of him with every step, until finally he ended up back at the front desk only to find that Daichi had waited to take him back to the studio, eliciting a quiet “aw” from him.

His presence was barely noticed amongst the still-chattering medical assistants, who apparently had been teasing the life out of Kuroo ever since he returned from failing to take Oikawa’s vitals.

“Tooru is  _ way _ out of your league. If you’re going to start dating men, you should start with one that  _ isn’t  _ a professional ballerino and ten times prettier than you,” came from Daishou.

“I don’t know why you think he’s gay just because he dances. I see him go on dates with women,” from Daichi.

“I think you two are perfect for each other. You’re both annoying as hell,” added Iwaizumi.

Oikawa laughed under his breath at the differing opinions, though he couldn’t entirely blame Iwaizumi for calling him annoying. Iwaizumi was subjected to Oikawa’s endless teasing flirtations throughout the ten-minute span of his x-ray.

“Don’t be like that, Hajime. I thought we bonded back there,” Oikawa finally let his presence be known, relishing in the shocked looks as the urgent care staff turned to look at him.

Daichi pushed himself away from the counter, moving to stand beside Oikawa and offer a helping hand which Oikawa accepted graciously.

“You acted like your legs don’t work.”

“Because I’m  _ injured _ .”

“I could’ve done his x-ray,” Kuroo mentioned quickly, and the group grew silent as they stared at him.

Oikawa found himself moving his eyes back and forth between Iwaizumi and Daishou as they hid laughs behind their hands. Kuroo stood between the two and tapped his foot expectantly.

Daichi was the first to speak, and he did so with a laugh: “you couldn’t even do his vitals.”

“I could have! Tooru made it difficult!”

Oikawa chose not to respond, instead laughing at the desperate look on Kuroo’s face. He tapped Daichi’s shoulder and motioned toward the door with his chin, and Daichi did not need any further convincing to leave the urgent care.

“Hey, Tooru!” Daishou called before they could make it to the door, and Oikawa glanced over his shoulder as Daichi stopped beside him. “You seeing anybody?”

Before Oikawa could even think to respond, Kuroo reached out and grabbed for the top of Daishou’s scrubs. “You have a girlfriend!”

Oikawa heard a resigned sigh from Daichi, who began pushing at his back to make him leave faster, and Oikawa allowed himself to be led away with a smile.


End file.
